


Resolutions

by irisbleufic



Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [38]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality Spectrum, Bars and Pubs, Bickering, Canon-Typical Violence, Clubbing, Demisexual Character, Demisexuality, Disability, Do not translate without permission or copy to another site/app, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, Everybody Over About Age 35 In This Is Tired, Exasperated Middle-Aged Characters vs. Impulsive Twentysomethings & Late Teens, F/F, F/M, Gotham City Police Department, Grudging Cooperation, Heroes to Villains, Holidays, Intersex Character, Jerome Valeska Lives, M/M, Meddling, Murder, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Murder Wives, Neurodiversity, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Nonbinary Character, Other, Partying, Pettiness, Protectiveness, Rumors, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Teasing, Texting, The Iceberg Lounge, This Fic Takes Place Across Four Different Bars/Clubs, Tired Oswald Cobblepot, Trans Character, Twins, Villains to Heroes, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:00:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisbleufic/pseuds/irisbleufic
Summary: “Ms. Agapova!” Jerome drawled, sauntering to the end of the bar.  “What brings you here?”Olga wore her usual placid expression.  “We hear it is, how do you put?  A happening place.”The man beside her had been present during the confrontation at Penguin’s estate the night of the blackout.  Jerome searched his memory for a name, a reference, anything—and found it.“Amen,” Gabe muttered contemptuously.  “Ringin’ in the New Year with a bunch of circus freaks.”Grinning to unnerve the poor flunky, Jerome considered the relative merits of slitting Gabe’s throat.
Relationships: 514A & Ivy Pepper (Gotham), 514A & Jerome Valeska, 514A/Jerome Valeska, Ecco/Ivy Pepper (Gotham), Fish Mooney & Leslie Thompkins, Gabe & Olga (Gotham), Harvey Bullock & Jim Gordon & Lucius Fox, Harvey Bullock/Fish Mooney, Harvey Bullock/Jim Gordon, Ivy Pepper & Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska & Bruce Wayne, Jeremiah Valeska & Jerome Valeska, Jeremiah Valeska/Bruce Wayne, Jeri & Jerome Valeska, Jeri & Jerome Valeska & 514A, Jim Gordon & Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox/Alfred Pennyworth, Oswald Cobblepot & Bruce Wayne & Jeremiah Valeska, Oswald Cobblepot & Fish Mooney, Oswald Cobblepot & Martin, Oswald Cobblepot & Martin & Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot & Olga (Gotham), Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma, Selina Kyle & Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle/Bridgit Pike, Sofia Falcone/Fish Mooney, Sofia Falcone/Leslie Thompkins, Tabitha Galavan & Barbara Kean & Victor Zsasz, Tabitha Galavan/Barbara Kean
Series: Delicate, Dangerous, Obsessed [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/726708
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Resolutions

**Gotham Bar**  
**_8:55 PM_ **

Ever since Alfred had brought spiked eggnog out to the squad car during Bruce’s party on Christmas Day, Jim had felt uncomfortably like he owed him. When Harvey had suggested they invite Alfred and Lucius along for New Year’s Eve drinks, it took a weight off.

Arriving at their habitual watering hole to find their guests already present piled it back on.

“Listen, mate, I know that look,” said Alfred, hauling out the stool next to him. “First round’s on us, no arguments allowed.”

Jim nodded and sat down, smiling in defeat as Alfred slid him a pint. “Glad you could make it.”

“Keep the ol’ police captain and his handsome bastard of a partner indebted,” Harvey said, claiming the stool next to Jim, leaning to wave at Lucius three seats down. “I see how it is.”

“You shouldn’t give us that much credit,” Lucius replied, raising his glass. “We aren’t sober.”

“The joke’s on you, neither are we,” Jim sighed, passing Harvey his whiskey. “We pre-gamed.”

“I hope the least intoxicated of you two did the driving,” said Alfred, disapprovingly.

“Oh, hell no,” Harvey cackled. “I made Jim get on one of those newfangled car-phone thingies and book us a ride.”

“Ride-share apps,” Lucius corrected, drinking like he hadn’t had enough to be dealing with this.

“Even I know that, and I’ve got a decade on you,” Alfred chided glibly. “What’s your excuse?”

“Harv’s excuse is that I do everything for his sorry ass,” Jim said, staring at the television. “Times Square coverage, really? What the hell.”

“There’s no hope for us here in Jersey when the barkeep’s a New Yorker,” said Harvey. “Look away.”

Jim enjoyed watching Alfred and Lucius interact when they were off-duty, if only because it was a relief to see them relax for once. However, the fact they were at liberty begged a question that Jim wasn’t keen to ask. He thought about how best to phrase it, so as to seem casual.

“I guess Bruce and Jeremiah decided they could fend for themselves tonight?” Jim wise-cracked.

“Not at all,” Alfred said wryly, swilling his Smithwick’s. “They’re across town, keeping up appearances. I rather fear the joke’s on them. They’re likely to end up child-minding.”

Harvey whistled. “The Iceberg’s a hot ticket. Looks like we didn’t make the cut— _again_.”

“We would’ve asked you inside during the party if we’d had say on invites,” Lucius protested.

Jim cringed inwardly, and then at Alfred. “Are there any, ah, damages we need to hear about?”

“Unless you’d like to know the state of the library sofas, I sincerely doubt it,” Alfred retorted.

“Ooh, nope,” said Harvey, covering his ears. “Nope nope _nope_. That’s a hard pass.”

Lucius gave Alfred a disapproving look. “It wasn’t that bad. We only found boot-scuffs.”

“Yeah, love,” Alfred said tetchily, “but d’you think I don’t know damage from Doc Martens? And who, of all our guests, was wearing those?”

“Don’t remember,” Lucius said, painfully earnest. “I mean, my money’s on Ivy or— _oh_.”

Jim might’ve gone on having a decent time if somebody hadn’t tapped on his shoulder. He wasn’t keen on a fight, so he did his best to ignore it.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” said the perp. “Haven’t seen you up-close and personal since…damn. Hey, Vee! Wasn’t it at city hall, three years ago?”

“Yup, think so,” said the perp’s companion. “He was in a bad way by the end of the ceremony.”

“Ms. Fowler,” Jim greeted wearily, swiveling around to face the two women. “Ms. Aragon.”

“Whoa,” Harvey said, throwing back the rest of his double. “You didn’t mention these two.”

“Yeah, no, why would I?” Jim shot back. “Penguin’s former-gun-running driver and bodyguard. Almost as bad as hearing him gush over Ed. I did _not_ want to talk about it.”

Alfred nodded at Caroline and gave Vee a curt military salute. “Been about as long for us. Last time I saw this lot, we were shooting our way through a Court of Owls stronghold.”

“We see Bruce and J a lot,” Vee said. “As long as Martín’s happy, boss doesn’t complain.”

“What brings you ladies down here?” Lucius asked. “This is slumming it, even for you.”

“We weren’t about to stick around at Celestial Garden,” Caroline said. “Not when Jeri announced her guests of honor. There’s gonna be a riot.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jim muttered, pushing off his stool, phone already in hand. “Excuse me.”

**The Sirens**  
**_9:25 PM_ **

Barbara almost didn’t mind that she and Tabitha were stuck behind the bar. It wasn’t every year Zsasz turned up for New Year’s Eve shenanigans with a date on his arm who was somebody other than Headhunter.

“Can you just make up your mind whether you wanna lick them or fuck them,” ventured Tabitha, “and leave me the hell out of the equation?”

“Aw, baby, c’mon,” Barbara said, watching Zsasz pour another line of shots. “They’re so cute.”

“Uh, we can hear you,” Zsasz said, clinking his first glass off Sveta’s before downing it. “Also, my attractive friend here is, like, only a few years younger than we are, so chillax. You’ve both met Sveta before.”

“Auntie Olga’s smear campaign’s working,” Sveta scoffed, downing hers, too. “She’d be happy if everyone in Gotham’s underworld went around assuming I’m on par with Ivy and the girls.”

“Wow,” Tabitha said snidely. “I bet Grandma Fish has _nothing_ to do with reinforcing that, huh? Maybe acting your age would nip it in the bud.” 

Sveta downed her next two shots in one go. Barbara couldn’t help but find that impressive.

“Anyway, we’re not dating,” Zsasz said cheerfully. “Olga would kick my butt, and then Fish would kick what’s left of it. Banging, though?” he made finger-guns at Sveta, who returned them. “You betcha.”

“Gosh golly,” Barbara said, turning to Tabitha, winking insolently. “You kids are the worst.”

“Vic, can we go someplace that’ll treat us like grown-ups?” Sveta asked. “And be less creepy?”

Beneath the bar, Barbara’s phone buzzed loud enough to make itself known above the thump of the music. Tabitha snagged it before Barbara could, her eyebrows hitting her hairline.

“That’s not a happy face,” Zsasz said, finishing his remaining three shots in quick succession.

“Uh, hi, why is tonight my idea of hell incarnate?” Tabitha said, tossing the phone at Barbara.

“Mine, too, apparently.” Barbara wrinkled her nose when she saw who the text was from. “Boys can’t take a hint,” she said, unlocking the screen to see what Jim wanted. “Naïve of me to think Harv was keeping Jim’s ass in line.”

 _You’re not far from Celestial Garden_ , read the text. _Any chaos over there yet?_

“Why the fuck is Jim asking if we know what’s going on at Jeri’s?” Tabitha asked disdainfully.

“Uh, _hi_ ,” Sveta parroted, pouring two more shots. “It’s Gotham’s first holiday season with free-range Jerome. The nut jobs who hang out there still think he’s worth idolizing.”

“I don’t think we got anything to worry about,” Zsasz said, finally in his cups. “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but Five’s been a good influence.”

“Hah, you’re drunk!” Sveta crowed, startling everyone at the bar. “I won the sprint! Booyah!”

Barbara felt something like relief when Fish marched up behind Sveta and Zsasz, taking each of them by the collar. Lee and Sofia, who flanked her, didn’t pretend not to enjoy it.

“If you think Five’s anything but an enabler on a night like this, you’re a pair of damn fools.”

“Thank God you’re here,” Tabitha said, feigning genuine relief so skillfully that Barbara fell in love with her all over again. “These two are out past curfew. I was about to call the cops.”

Lee took Zsasz’s remaining shots and handed one to Sofia. “It’s true, though,” she said, eyebrows raised as she checked her phone. “They’re over there. My contact on Jeri’s staff says so.”

“Everybody’s least favorite lovebirds,” Barbara mused, glancing surreptitiously at Jim’s message again. “That’s bold for a pair of shut-ins. I heard Bruce had ’em under penthouse arrest.”

“They can come and go as they please,” Fish explained, “which is not the part I take issue with.”

“It’s that Jeri’s getting to mother them, not her,” said Sofia, with wicked glee, downing her shot.

“No,” Fish corrected. “It’s that Jeri should know better than to give those boys run of her club.”

Zsasz made finger-guns again, this time at Barbara. “Gimme my Glocks. I’ll go check it out.”

“You’ll do no such thing, Victor,” Fish said, releasing his collar. “Ms. Bellson, what gives?”

“I didn’t have to work the Lounge tonight, so sue me!” Sveta cried indignantly. “Vic’s fun!”

Setting her forearm on Sofia’s shoulder, Lee gave Tabitha a sympathetic look. “Rough night?”

“Not if I leave with you two,” Tabitha said, pouring them each another shot. “On the house.”

Barbara watched Fish start to type on her phone, wondering if Oswald was the unlucky recipient.

**The Iceberg Lounge**  
**_10:35 PM_ **

Two hours in, Jeremiah thoroughly regretted promising Bruce he wouldn’t pull a repeat of how much he’d drunk at their Christmas party.

“Takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?” said Edward, with conspiratorial glee. He sipped a violently green cocktail while Martín, perched on the bar stool between them, eagerly blew through the latest labyrinth design Jeremiah had brought for him.

“Oh?” Jeremiah said, tearing his eyes away from the boy’s impressive progress. “What does?”

“You know,” Edward said between clenched teeth. “Being the charming eye-candy spouse.”

 _Who’s rude now?_ Martín scrawled in the margin of his paper. _Remember what you said to me at Bruce’s party, when I was blunt about Dad’s political career? Not my fault. I get that from you._

Jeremiah regarded the boy with amusement. “My role at Wayne Enterprises social events isn’t what you think,” he told Edward. “I do as much heavy lifting as Bruce. We have contracts to win.”

“Ed’s right,” Bruce cut in, wandering over to peer at Martín’s work. “You’re the pretty one.”

Gulping the remainder of the whiskey he’d been nursing all night, Jeremiah glowered halfheartedly. He couldn’t pull Bruce close and kiss him senseless in present company, not without causing a scene.

Oswald tapped Jeremiah’s elbow surreptitiously in passing. “There’s nobody in the office.”

“Veto!” Edward called after him, indignant. “You’re not the only one who works in there!”

Hardly oblivious to the exchange, Bruce turned to Jeremiah, stepping right into his space.

“We don’t have to stay,” he said, no longer teasing. “Say the word, and I’ll call for the car.”

Selina sauntered past them with Bridgit at her side, scowling at her phone. “Hey, Ed,” she said, holding the device out so that he could read a message on the screen. “Thoughts?”

“Oh dear,” said Edward, with an inflection that worried even Jeremiah. “That’s from Fish?”

Bridgit nodded, arms folded sternly. “I could just torch the place. Saves us a lot of trouble.”

Chewing on his lip, Edward glanced up at Bruce. “Do you know where your brother-in-law is?”

“No,” Bruce said earnestly, sounding troubled. “Should I? Five’s been keeping him occupied.”

Edward grabbed Selina’s phone and handed it to Bruce. “Now, Jeri’s keeping them occupied.”

“That’s…potentially not good,” Bruce admitted, staring worriedly at the message from Fish.

Jeremiah slid an arm around Bruce’s waist, suddenly indifferent to who might think what.

“Look on the bright side,” he said. “If they do something awful, just sign the penthouse over to Jerome and have done with it. They’re on their own.”

Martín, who had apparently abandoned the labyrinth in favor of paying attention, hopped off his stool and strode off through the crowd.

“Pardon,” Jeremiah said, leaving Bruce with a shoulder-pat, following Martín. “Damage control.”

Unsurprisingly, Martín reached Oswald first and began to sign so rapidly it was disorienting.

Oswald’s features went pinched and furious as he looked to Jeremiah. “Is this nonsense true?”

Jeremiah nodded, keeping his expression neutral. “I doubt Fish would lie about such a thing.”

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Oswald barely restrained his impending fit of temper.

“If your brother and his—his manic pixie dream Talon cause all hell to break loose, I _swear_ —”

“Of _course_ Bruce and I will deal with it,” Jeremiah said with more poise than he felt.

“We won’t kill them,” Bruce interjected, panting as he finally caught up. “You know that.”

Quick thinking could de-fuse the situation, Jeremiah knew. He decided to take a gamble.

“Since you’ve been so generous with your advice lately, allow me to offer some in return.”

Bruce tensed at Jeremiah’s side, his hand clamping abruptly on Jeremiah’s wrist. “Don’t—”

“No, by all means,” Oswald snapped, hugging Martín. “Let’s hear your trophy husband out.”

Jeremiah longed to strangle Oswald with his own tie, but he’d be damned if he showed it.

“Get out your phone,” he said calmly, rubbing the back of Bruce’s hand, “and call Olga.”

“She’s at the house with Gabe,” Oswald retorted. “Somebody’s got to hold down the fort.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeremiah plucked Oswald’s cell from behind his pocket square. He shoved it against Oswald’s chest.

“Jerome’s fond of your butler. Appreciates her mettle from _way_ back, when was it—the night the lights went out? Bruce told me.”

Bruce released a long, thin, shaky breath. “They cleared the air at my party on Christmas Day.”

“Thanks to Five, Jerome’s been drinking _all_ the respect-women juice,” Jeremiah said. “Use it.”

**Celestial Garden**  
**_11:45 PM_ **

Among the colorful rabble, Jerome shook devotees’ hands while Five hung proudly on his arm.

When Five finally spoke, it was hushed, for Jerome’s ears only. “Look. Over there, at the bar.”

Ivy Pepper, in a shimmering green-gold evening dress, was doing shots with Harley Eccles. Jeremiah’s former assistant wore garish, Jeri-style face paint. Weirdly, it suited her.

“Wanna go say hi?” Jerome asked. “Let’s do that. We’re here to mingle, _heh_.”

Five nodded, towing Jerome along as he approached the carousing young women. “Ivy.”

“Holy hell,” Harley gasped, turning to Five. “Aren’t you just a regular shapeshifter!”

Jerome rolled his eyes at her vapid manner, but had to agree. Five _did_ look killer tonight, in tight black jeans instead of a skirt. He’d done smoky metallic eye makeup and swept his hair back into an artfully disheveled bun.

“Hey, you!” Ivy gushed, hugging Five. “That get-up looks _great_ with the floral Docs.”

Five tapped the toe of his patterned boot against Ivy’s high heel before stepping back. “Thanks.”

Harley scrutinized Jerome, the glint in her eyes entirely too similar to Jeremiah’s at its cruelest.

“We got a head-start boozin’ it up,” she said, offering Jerome a shot. “Bet I can drink you under the table.”

Before Jerome could think of a retort to cover his disgust, Five grabbed the shot and downed it.

“It’s the cheap stuff,” Five told Jerome, side-eyeing Harley disdainfully. “Don’t bother.”

“You heard my baby,” Jerome chuckled, with a hint of malice. “Keep it. More for you.”

Ivy punched Jerome companionably in the arm. “Look at you, all responsible and shit.”

“Someone’s gotta be,” Jerome said distractedly, scrutinizing a familiar profile he’d spotted at the end of the bar. “These people are crazy.”

In the strobe-lit dimness, Olga raised her shot glass in Jerome’s direction, a silent salute.

The hulk of a guy beside her looked suspiciously familiar. He kept his nose in his martini.

Five leaned close to Jerome’s ear, his teeth gritted. “Penguin sent them here. All four.”

Jerome turned his head and kissed Five’s cheek. “Then we’ve gotta pay our respects.”

Five huffed fondly, disentangling himself from Jerome’s arm. “Have fun with that.”

“D’you need something?” Jerome asked. “Jeri’s between sets, so you go can ask—”

“Jeez, relax,” Five laughed, tilting his head toward the restrooms as he left. They were in the hall that led into the stage-right wing.

“Ms. Agapova!” Jerome drawled, sauntering to the end of the bar. “What brings you here?”

Olga wore her usual placid expression. “We hear it is, how do you put? A happening place.”

The man beside her had been present during the confrontation at Penguin’s estate the night of the blackout. Jerome searched his memory for a name, a reference, anything—and found it.

“Amen,” Gabe muttered contemptuously. “Ringin’ in the New Year with a bunch of circus freaks.”

Grinning to unnerve the poor flunky, Jerome considered the relative merits of slitting Gabe’s throat.

“You’re welcome,” he said instead, spinning on his heel. As he walked, he slipped his hand in his pocket to clutch the straight-razor there. He had to find Five before he lost control.

Just as Jerome passed into the hall, he saw Five emerge from one of the two restroom doors.

The man who emerged a split-second later was one of Jeri’s security detail. He said something Jerome couldn’t hear, but whatever it was—it made Five snarl and throw a punch.

While the man cussed and staggered back from Five, Jerome drew the razor, flicking it open.

As the bouncer regained his balance, Jerome caught him on the up-swing. The blade sliced through the bouncer’s throat, and he fell with a gurgle.

Five stood silently applauding, with a dazzling, _delighted_ smile on his lovely face.

Snapping the straight-razor shut, Jerome felt power-drunk. He needed Five to drag him home.

Five took the razor out of Jerome’s hand. He slipped it in his back pocket, stepped over the body, and backed Jerome against the stage’s heavy, drawn-back velvet curtain.

“It’s almost midnight,” Five said, running his thumbs from the corners of Jerome’s mouth up to where those scars ended. “Wanna get out of here?”

“You read my mind,” Jerome said, swallowing as Five’s palms came to rest on his cheeks. “Not even my dastardly departed old man could do that.”

Five kissed the scars on his neck, making Jerome shiver. First the one from Galavan, and then the one Five had given him. “We’re leaving, then?” 

“I’d like that,” Jerome admitted, running his fingers through Five’s hair. He became aware that Jeri wasn’t singing anymore, and that her audience was chanting the countdown.

Five lifted his head, looking Jerome in the eyes before pressing their foreheads together. 

“Me too,” he whispered, the brush of his lips against Jerome’s not quite a kiss. “Jerome?”

“I’m all ears, sweet pea,” Jerome whispered back, pecking the corner of Five’s mouth.

“Did you ever...” Five took his turn to swallow, fussing with Jerome’s lapels. “Do this?”

Jerome shook his head, laughter escaping him as the crowd’s chanting reached fever-pitch.

“You’re my first New Year’s kiss, precious,” he said. “My first everything.”

“You’re mine, too,” said Five, beaming in spite of his chagrin. “It’s almost—”

As midnight struck, Jerome kissed Five so deeply it made them both sway.

“You’ve been stuck with me eight whole months,” he quipped. “Tired yet?”

“Never,” Five replied, licking a splash of blood off Jerome’s jaw. “I want—”

“Aw, come on!” Jeri shouted, stepping into the wings. “Which one of you did this?”

“Uh, I did,” stammered Jerome, at exactly the same time as Five insisted, “It was me.”

“They’re makin’ too much ruckus out there to give a shit what happens back here,” Jeri said, checking the bouncer’s pulse. “This is the last time I cover for you two, swear to God. Lucky for us, Penguin’s schmucks are as busy dancin’ as the rest. Happy fuckin’ 2019.”

“Happy New Year,” said Five, peeling away from Jerome so he could give Jeri a contrite hug.

“C’mere, kid,” Jeri sighed, giving Five a squeeze as she glared at Jerome over Five’s shoulder.

“That stiff was rude to Five,” Jerome said. “Convince me you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“Whatever,” said Jeri, nudging Five toward Jerome. “You need to sneak out the back, ASAP.”

Five took Jerome’s hand, tugging him down the black-lit hall. “This reminds me of the tunnels.”

“Indian Hill?” Jerome asked, already winded. “Yeah, kinda. If they made your clothes glow.”

Just before they reached the exit, Five pinned Jerome to the wall again and kissed him hard.

“You were about to say somethin’ when Jeri cut in,” Jerome mumbled against Five’s lips.

“I want,” Five panted, “to keep your mouth busy the rest of the night. That’s not a request.”

“Right, princess,” Jerome said obediently, grinning so wide his face hurt. “As you wish.”


End file.
